His
by Ursula4x
Summary: Neal Caffrey is kidnapped during a operation supervised by Ruiz instead of Peter.


Title: His  
Author: Ursula  
Rating: rating: NC-17  
Genre and/or Pairing: Neal Caffrey and Peter Burke.  
Notes: Fills several prompts, Peter's jacket on Neal, bondage wear forced on Neal, Corset on Neal, Neal loaned to another team, and Peter protective of Neal. Even some wistful one sided Mozzie love  
Spoilers: Sort of for Book of Hours by borrowing Ruiz.  
Warnings: Slash, threat of rape, non con BDSM  
Word Count:

Summary: It's his Neal and Ruiz should keep his hands off him.

"No."

"It's not happening," Peter said, expanding on his refusal.

Hughes looked exasperated. "Agent Burke, you may think this deal with Caffrey gives you ownership of the man, but it's the bureau that made the deal and, in case you fail to understand, as far as you are concerned, I am the bureau. Ruiz has made a reasonable request and I am granting it."

"Caffrey doesn't have any say?"

"He can say good bye to you on his way back to prison," Hughes said.

"It's fine," Neal said, "It will be interesting. You know how I love to experience new things."

"Let me come with Neal," Peter said.

"Here's the paperwork if you want to transfer to Organized Crime," Hughes said. "It will take a few weeks to process. You know how inept personnel is."

There was a flicker of a smile on Hughes' patrician face. "Agent Ruiz, please remember that Mr. Caffrey is not a trained agent. Do keep a close eye on him."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll treat Burke's baby boy like he was made of glass." Ruiz said.

OooOooO

It felt as if someone was fondling Elizabeth to have someone else be the one in charge of Neal. Peter had objected, but there was no real choice.

"What can Neal do for you that a trained agent couldn't?" Peter asked in the meeting room where he had intruded himself.

Ruiz smirked and said, "I don't have a slight, pretty, blue eyed agent, not a guy one anyway. You are a guy, Caffrey? Right?"

"Why? You interested?" Neal shot back.

"Now that you ask," Ruiz said, "No." He dug through his briefcase and produced a picture. The man in the picture looked huge. He was bald, well muscled, with brutal eyes and a mouth that looked like he ate raw meat with it.

"This guy likes them young, but not kids. He likes blue eyes and dark hair. He likes them slight, but built, you know. You work out right, Caffrey?"

"I work out," Neal admitted. "So you want me for bait? This has nothing to do with my skills, my brains, my experience, just my appearance?"

"Oh, I know about your experience, does Burke?"

"My sexuality is none of your business," Neal replied.

Peter knew that Neal was discriminate about his sex life if not with his flirting; he just didn't rule out either gender as possible lovers. It didn't bother Peter. Well, Neal bothered him, the way he flirted, the way Peter's body responded, and knowing that Neal was not out of bounds was difficult at times.

"What I care about is that you swing your ass in front of Bogden Fedorov real nice and that you behave yourself. Gimme your ankle. I got you some prettier jewelry than Peter gave you. Come on; plant your butt on the table so I can put my bracelet on you."

"Look, you can't be asking Neal to pander himself for us," Peter said.

"I'm not asking," Ruiz said. "I'm telling him. Burke, get serious. This Fedorov guy has the god damn Rosetta stone to most of the East Coast Russian mafia. We haven't been able to get a guy inside,but Fedorov is between playthings right now and we got to dangle Caffrey before he finds someone to his taste."

It drove Peter crazy to watch Ruiz handle Neal. Neal tried to act as if it was nothing, lifting his chin, staring across the room, and tapping his fingers on the table.

Peter picked up HIS tracker and put it carefully in his pocket while Ruiz replaced it with a heavy gold anklet. "This doesn't have the same degree of accuracy as your toy, Burke, but it will work fine for what we are doing."

Ruiz slapped some cash on the table and said, "Go buy yourself something pretty for the party. We'll get you in and you better reel Fedorov in and quick, capish?"

Neal picked up the cash, counted, and almost looked pleased. "What's the party theme?"

"Hell if I know. Just get something like you are someone's kept boy. Bet you can handle that, Caffrey."

"You are an asshole, Ruiz, a total asshole," Peter said, not being able to resist a supportive hand on Neal's shoulder.

Ruiz said, "Maybe I am but this is not any art theft or stock fraud. Fedorov is a major league player. He's vicious, smart, and people have a habit of turning up dead around him."

"Caffrey, " Ruiz said, his voice soft for him. "Buddy, don't worry. I am going to have so many eyes on you that you'll think you're back in prison. I won't let the guy mess you over and you'll be out before… before you gotta do anything for Fedorov."

Ruiz's reassurance didn't make Peter feel any better. "Come on, Neal, I'll take you shopping."

"Hey, let's call Elizabeth and make it an evening," Neal said.

Normally Peter put few things above shopping as things he didn't want to do. Maybe a colonoscopy. However, he was upset and he wanted to be with Neal, wanted to think through this with Neal and devise a way for it not to happen.

OooOooO

Neal turned in front of the mirror, frowning as he checked the line of the overpriced denim he was sporting. "What do you think, Elizabeth? This one or the APO ones? I wish there was enough money for the diamond studded ones. I look good in diamonds."

"Honey, those ones make me want to tear them right off you," Elizabeth commented with an apologetic look at Peter.

"Sold and I have a blue shirt that will look good with them," Neal twirled. "You like, Peter?"

"I don't like anything about this," Peter said. "Why are you so damn happy?"

"I get to keep the clothes," Neal said. "I needed some good jeans."

"Ruiz say something to you about me?"

"Peter, it's not all about you," Neal said.

"Well, I don't like it either," Elizabeth said. "Neal, this isn't you. You don't even like guns and you might break a nail if you punched someone."

"It will be okay," Neal said. "What could go wrong?"

Peter's gut felt as if a mule was kicking its way out of him. So much could go wrong.

OooOooO

Hughes kept Peter busy. Sent him out of town to pursue a lead about a forged masterpiece. Peter solved the case. Yeah, for real, the butler did it; a fleck of artist's oil under one of his manicured nails the final clue as to how an authenticated Eaton portrait had been replaced by a clever copy. It was not the most interesting case or maybe it was and Peter was missing some new and vital element that made all of his recent cases seem compelling. Peter didn't like to work alone anymore although he had hated the educated idiots he was usually saddled with and tried to ditch them as often as he could. Working with Neal was like working with his own sharp intelligence, but as if the right side of his brain had come to delightful life.

Peter's flight was cancelled and he was heading back to the hotel when his cell phone rang with 'the entertainer', Neal's dial tone. Every time, Peter changed it to something less eccentric, Neal stole his phone and switched it back. When Neal had called Peter just before his undercover assignment, Peter's phone again merrily echoed with the sprightly Joplin tune. This time, Peter had merely smiled and kept the ring tone exactly the way it was.

It wasn't Neal who was calling him. Mozzie's voice came screeching through. All the little man's vaunted cool was gone. "They fucking lost Neal. Peter, do you hear me? They lost him and Ruiz is trying to find him before you fly home."

"Are you sure? He could have run," Peter said. "The new tracer is hardly as unbreakable as the one I put on him."

"You think he wouldn't contact me if he ran? Even if he thought you were watching him, he would get a message to me one way or another. Me and Neal are tight. You don't get what we are. We're brothers, soul deep brothers, and I'm maybe the only one but Kate that Neal would admit he needed before…"

Before Neal became Peter's partner, because that was what he was. Peter turned around, went to the rental counter, and rented the fastest car available. Forget waiting for the next flight. If he drove through the night, he could be back in New York by morning.

OooOooO Scene Wipe OooOooO

On the phone with Mozzie most of the way, Peter's drive was a nightmare of lights blurring by, of his horn honked at too slow cars, at swerving and cursing at careless vehicles and hapless drivers.

"You find me a lead and I'll get Neal back. Don't worry, Mozzie, it will be okay. I can always find Neal. Always."

"I'll get what I can," Mozzie said. "It's dangerous, Peter. I told Neal not to do it. Prison's bad, but being dead isn't better."

"Did they threaten him with me?" Peter asked softly.

"Yeah, don't you know it? You know the way he feels about you. You, you could have him anytime, anyway, anywhere and you don't even…"

"Love him?" Peter said softly.

"I'm not ashamed of it," Mozzie said. "You can't tie me up with your American bourgeois mores. I know if I really asked, he'd give me anything and I know if I touched him, I still wouldn't have the part of him that I want. You fucking have it and you don't even want it. Life sucks. I watch him all the time, watch him sleep, hear whose name he calls now, and it isn't Kate. You're home with your wife and I'm there with him, but it's you. It's always you."

"I'm sorry," Peter said. He still couldn't say it, but Mozzie was wrong. Peter did want Neal, all of him, his smile, his dazzle, his beautiful body and his flawless mind.

The phone silenced. Peter drove through the night, thinking thoughts of love never spoken, flesh never touched, and there is wrong and there was right, but sometimes there are things in your heart that transcend both.

Peter loved Neal.

OooOooO

"I told you I was sorry, man," Ruiz said, a blue cold pack held to his face. "It all went wrong. Bad intell. I thought he bought his boys. I thought all the bondage gear was just kink. How the hell did I know it was for real?"

"You listen with your guts and you use the lump of coal that passes for your brain," Peter said. He hunched his shoulders, staring out at the water.

"At least, it wasn't Caffrey, just the tracker in the harbor," Ruiz said. "We'll get to him. He ain't going to kill him, Burke. He has what he wants."

"He's probably taking what he wants right now," Peter said.

"It's not like," Ruiz started, but held up his hands to deflect a blow. "Hey, Burke, one black eye and I walked into a wall. Two and the boss is going to ask questions neither of us wanna answer. Caffrey can handle it."

Peter said, "Even a knuckle dragging troglodyte like you must know that even if Neal is bisexual that doesn't mean it's okay for him to be raped."

"I'm not saying that it's okay," Ruiz said. "I'm saying that maybe you underestimate the guy. Hey, I really do know how smart your boy is. I'll put good money down that he hasn't had to do a damn thing. He's probably keeping the guy all pacified with stories like that Scaredy lady."

"You mean Scheherazade?" Peter asked.

"Whatever, you know what I mean."

"I hope to hell you're right," Peter said.

OooOooO

At Satchmo's bark, Peter rose, told Elizabeth to say put, and went down stairs with his gun drawn. It was Mozzie. A Mozzie who most resembled the golem from Lord of the Rings. His eyes were red rimmed. His clothes looked not only slept in, but buried alive in. His hair was so ragged that Peter thought he might be tearing it out in chunks.

"Hey, man, I got him. I think I know where the dude has Neal."

"What happened to the phone?"

"Phone? Phone? Oh, yeah, phone. Forgot I had one. Came here. You got to go get our boy, Burke."

Mozzie sounded like he was on thorazine. His voice was flat as if he was afraid that he would fly apart if he allowed a single inflection.

Elizabeth's voice came from upstairs. "Should I call 911?"

"It's okay. It's Mr. Haversham, a friend of Neal's."

Elizabeth came running down the stairs, barely covered by Peter's dress shirt. She said, "Is there news? Have they found him?"

"I found him," Mozzie said. "I turned in favors that I was saving to buy my way out of hell to do it. But I found him. Fedorov has a place out in Bayonne. Took Neal across a state line. Doesn't that make it a worse crime?"

"If Neal was an underage girl," Peter said, on his way up the stairs to get dressed.

Mozzie said, "Hey, I was just thinking out loud."

Suddenly noticing Elizabeth, Mozzie said "Wow, I thought Neal was just teasing me about you. You are hot."

"Why, thank you, Mr. Haversham, and do give my regards to Pip," Elizabeth replied.

"Elizabeth, you might want to put something on if we have to go to the hospital with Neal."

"You think he's hurt him? I'll kill this Fedorov myself, with my bare hands." Elizabeth said.

"Honey, come get dressed," Peter said, but he half way believed his wife. She sounded serious.

OooOooO

Visions of rushing the place on his own teased Peter, but he waited until both teams were in place. Jones glared at Murphy from Ruiz's team. Cruz refused to even look at Brenda Williams who was Ruiz's probie. Hughes was going to have to hire one hell of a team builder to make peace in his section once they got Neal back.

Mozzie said that Neal was in the dungeon, which was located on the left side of the hunting lodge next to the wine cellar. No one argued when Peter appointed himself to enter that side of the building.

Local authorities had agreed to cut power to the lodge. There was a backup generator, but Peter and the rest of the agents would be in the doors before anyone could turn it on.

With any luck, Neal would be safe and sound in Peter's arms in the next few moments.

"Count one. Count two, and three. GO!"

Pandemonium. Gas grenades hissing. Shots being fired. Voices yelling. FBI. You're under arrest. FBI!

Peter moved through the darkness, his heart pounding in his ears. His heart. His heart, his tell tale heart was not in his chest. It lay somewhere in this house with Neal Caffrey.

Despite the dark, Peter followed the floor plan that was seared into his brain. The house plan might as well have marked the dungeon with an X for there lays treasure. There was Neal.

Just as Peter arrived, the lights flashed on, blinding him for a moment. When he could see again, Fedorov was standing in the dungeon, among a Saint Andrew's cross, a dangling sling with restraints, a spanking horse, and whip bench. Fedorov was bigger in person than he looked in that picture.

Neal dangled from Fedorov's hands, feet not touching the floor. Fedorov had a massive hand around Neal's neck, the other was holding a gun.

What the hell was Neal wearing? Shiny black leather thong, displaying his cock. A tight corset squeezing his ribs. Handcuffs leading to a chain that dangled across Neal's groin to attach to the cock ring that captured Neal's penis. Blue eyes were wide with terror but relief flooded them the moment Neal saw it was Peter.

"Peter, the list is in plain sight over there on top the cage. Exigent circumstances, right?"

"Yeah, Neal," Peter said gently. "How are you, Neal?"

"Not so good, Peter," Neal admitted.

"So Agent, I can see that my poppet and you are excellent friends," Fedorov said. "So let's deal. You have him. I take my list…and, Neal, my darling, that was very naughty of you to take advantage of my good nature and break into my safe. Burke, I get on my private plane. You get to keep sweet Neal, what's left of him."

Peter hated. He didn't know he was capable of feeling such rage, such a need to destroy a human life. He thought himself civilized but all he could see was blood. Blood on Neal's face. Blood and bruises all over Neal's beautiful, thin body. Blood in his own eyes, swimming with the need to kill Fedorov.

Defeat steamrolled Peter. He was incapable of bluffing with Neal looking so hopefully at him.

"Drop it," Ruiz commanded from behind Peter.

"I'll let him go when I am safely out of here," Fedorov said.

"Let him go," Peter said, lowering his gun.

"Don't be crazy," Ruiz said. "Fedorov ain't going to let Caffrey go. If I let him go, Fedorov will just take Neal with him. Caffrey don't want that, do you, Neal?"

Neal's answer was to sway in Fedorov's hands and sink from them boneless to the floor. Fedorov was prepared for a struggle but not for this sudden sinking from his grip. He dropped Neal. Ruiz dropped him.

Fedorov swayed. He tried to raise his gun to fire. Ruiz and Peter fired together. Fedorov jerked backwards with the impact. He fell between the arms of his St. Andrew's cross.

Ruiz scurried forward to check Fedorov and get his gun. "Bastard's dead."

Neal opened one eye and said, "It's about time."

"You didn't faint?"

"Like Elizabeth tells us, you don't give away trade secrets," Neal said. He held up his cuffed hands as far as they would go away from the chain that attached to his cock ring. "Get me out of this stuff, please? Keys in his pocket."

As Ruiz called for medics for Neal, Peter found the key. He saw a CD on the dog crate with the metal dishes still full of food and water.

"Cover me with your coat, Peter, cover me, please," Neal said.

Peter didn't argue. He folded Neal into his coat and he held him as tightly as he thought he could without hurting him. Neal grabbed his arm and silent shudders rocked through him.

"I want to go home, Peter, take me home," Neal beseeched.

"Gotta go to the hospital first. Have to let them take care of you."

Ruiz did something decent for once in his life. He left them alone in that bloody torture chamber.

OooOooO

At the hospital, Peter paced. Mozzie rocked in a chair, head in hands, looking as if he was ill accustomed to light or possibly it was the number of agents in the room.

Elizabeth sat next to Mozzie, petting him every once in a while and saying, "Neal will be fine, Mr. Haversham."

The young blond doctor who came out to talk to them said, "Does he have any family?"

For an answer, Peter waved around the room, even including a contrite looking Reese Hughes.

Peter did not include Ruiz in his gesture.

Ruiz had not left, even after Peter threatened to shoot him if he even looked Neal's way again. Peter was only mildly embarrassed at the memory of poking his finger at Ruiz's chest, the other hand on his service gun, and saying, "If you ever even look at my…my Neal again. I swear to God I will shoot you."

"Hey, Burke, if the kid had been killed, I would have shot myself. I swear it. I screwed up big time. You want me to get down on my knees and tell Caffrey?"

"You don't get that near my Neal. No one touches my Neal. Right, Hughes?"

Hughes meekly nodded. The CD that Neal had left in plain sight contained the names, crimes, and connections to every Russian mobster on the East Coast. Neal's exigency had scored a coup that might just get Hughes in the running for  
the directorship when the current old man retired.

"Who is Burke?" the doctor said.

"That's me," Peter said.

"You have his power of attorney," the doctor said.

Those words sickened Peter. What the hell was the doctor saying? That Neal was dying and someone needed to sign off life support?

"Take it easy," the doctor said. "Your partner has some abrasions, a lot of bruises. He was whipped, but I don't think there will be scars. He'll be fine."

Following the doctor into a private consultation room, Peter asked, "Can you tell if he was raped?"

"We gave him an internal exam, given the way he was dressed and under the circumstances described. There is not damage or sign of recent penetration. We gave him some vaccinations just in case. We gave him an HIV test but he should have another in three months just to be certain. It is very unlikely that he will have HIV."

"Now, let's get the treatment forms signed."

Peter signed where he was told. The doctor dropped the file and Peter picked it up. He had assumed that Neal had given a verbal consent to have Peter sign for him, but this was a real legal document or looked like one. Peter's neat signature was at the bottom. He had initialed every line where indicated and he had never seen the document in his life.

"How did you get this?" Peter asked.

"The interesting little man on the bench gave it to the nurse. Why?"

"I really should get the original back," Peter said. "Neal Caffrey finds trouble like a cat finds cream. I might need it again next week."

"Certainly," the doctor said. "He shouldn't have many visitors but if you want to see him, it would be good for him."

As Peter walked out of the closet sized conference room with the mini desk, he noticed Mozzie had disappeared. He shook his head, smiled, and put the power of attorney in his pocket, right over his heart.

Thinking Neal was asleep, Peter leaned over him, kissed his forehead, stroked through his hair.

"I'm awake, Peter," Neal murmured, opening his eyes.

"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn," Peter said.

"That makes me Scarlett?"

"No, because she was a bad woman and you're the best man I know," Peter said and kissed Neal again, softly on the lips, a wordless pledge of more. He would keep this promise as he kept all of his promises.

"Don't get me wrong," Peter asked, "But why didn't he rape you?"

"Because he needed me to say that he owned me," Neal said. "He could hurt me, humiliate me, keep me in that damn crate, but he can't get it up until you give into him and tell him you belong to him."

"Why? Why not say it? He was hurting you."

"How could I belong to him, Peter? I belong to you. I would have died first before I denied you. Yeah, I was a liar. I would say anything to get my way, but you changed me. Now I couldn't lie, not about that, not about my soul."

And Peter wept.

The end


End file.
